Page 95 of Too Dangerous To Die

The magic remembers.

It weaves between our fingers as we sink to the moss-covered ground together, the rite sealed not with chants or crowns, but the way she clings to me like I’m the only thing anchoring her to this world.

And maybe I am.

Maybe she is.

Maybe we both are.

In the end, that’s what love is in Protheka.

It'schosen.

Even when the world is ash.

Even when the gods look away.

We choose each other.

44

NORA

The magic hasn’t faded.

It lingers on our skin, soaked into the moss beneath us, woven through the air like threads of starlight suspended in time. The grove is hushed now, but not empty. Itfeels.Like something has witnessed us. Chosen not to speak, but to bless.

Rhaegar sits beside me, fingers still twined with mine, the edges of his stone form softening into flesh beneath the weight of shared warmth. His chest rises in slow, reverent breaths. The glow beneath his skin—the one that fractured with death—now pulses faintly in sync with mine. Our bond. Our vow.

No chains.

No crowns.

Only this. Us..

I look at him, and the world ceases to exist.

The mountains fade. The sky dissolves. All that’s left is the man who nearly died in my arms, whochosedeath over power, and then chose me again when life offered him a second chance.

“I can still feel you,” he whispers, voice low and hoarse with wonder. “In here.”

His hand touches his chest, then mine, fingers brushing the spot where the soulbinding magic settled. Not a brand. Not a curse. Aclaim.Sacred and quiet. Like breath.

“You have all of me,” I answer.

The way he looks at me…

It isn’t hunger.

It isn’t need.

It’sreverence.

And it undoes me.

He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I choose.

But I don’t.

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